


It's Way Beyond Ice Cream (The Stone Cold Remix)

by loose_canon



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Allison is going to save his grade, Alternate Universe - Ice Cream Parlor, Alternate Universe - Ice Cream Shop, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Andrew Minyard POV, Andrew is bad at customer service, Background Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker - Freeform, Betting on your friends and coworkers, Everyone works at the ice cream shop but mostly Andrew and Matt, F/F, M/M, Matt is a Sweetheart, Neil is in a group project with Allison and Renee, Neil still can't dress himself, The Chocolate Monstrosity, The Dumbass Delight, Wymack is sentimental and named the shop To Impress Abby, idiots to boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loose_canon/pseuds/loose_canon
Summary: Andrew's job at the Foxhole Court ice cream shop couldn't be more boring, especially since his lack of customer service skills means he's banned from the register. Then his best friend and her girlfriend walk in with a stranger—a very attractive stranger. So Andrew spices things up, namely by denying said stranger his extremely boring order and serving him disgustingly extravagant sweets instead.Will Andrew's bizarre methods win him the affection of one blue-eyed customer? Or will Neil continue to prickle at Andrew's obstinance until the group project that brought him into the shop with Allison and Renee ends? And most importantly: what bizarre frozen creation will Andrew foist on his frustrated but beautiful customer next?





	It's Way Beyond Ice Cream (The Stone Cold Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekojita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/gifts).
  * Inspired by [It's Way Beyond Ice Cream](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305487) by [nekojita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita). 

> This fic is part of the AFTG Remix 2019. Thank you to the mods for putting everything together, and to nekojita for letting me remix your fun ice cream AU.
> 
> Like the original fic, this is a no Exy universe. For the remix, I changed the POV from Neil to Andrew, and this time Neil doesn't know any of the Foxes until he meets Allison and Renee in a marketing class. Instead of Renee taking Neil to the ice cream shop, they start visiting because Allison wants to eat ice cream while they work on their group project together, and Neil and Renee have to go along with it because her business savvy is going to save their grades. Neil still has his scars and he could have potentially moved to Palmetto because of WitSec, but the fic doesn't really delve into that.
> 
> I loved getting to write Disaster Gay Andrew pining over Neil and acting like a jackass. I hope you enjoy reading it just as much!

Another day, another monotonous shift slinging ice cream. Andrew stands behind the counter twiddling with the freezing metal spoons and deciding which topping he’ll sneak into his already full stomach to redress capitalism’s wrongs. Entertainment is hard to come by at the Foxhole Courte, which is, frankly, an incoherent name for an ice cream shop. Andrew already said as much to his boss, David Wymack, who had replied that foxes are his girlfriend’s favorite animal.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t work here,” Andrew said.

Wymack rolled his eyes and shoved Andrew’s paycheck at him. “It’s called romance, Minyard. A grand gesture.”

“I didn’t realize Abby was banging you for your horrific taste in orange.” 

That had earned him a telling off. Andrew would like to think he’s won, but here he is, standing behind the counter flinging ice cream around wearing a bright orange apron that says “Foxhole Courte” on the breast just above a little white paw. Whatever it takes to put gas in the tank of his Maserati (all-black exterior and interior, just like Andrew)—and to impress Wymack's girlfriend, apparently.

Andrew isn’t allowed to work the register because he isn’t “customer-friendly.” He leaves the bowing and scraping and schmoozing to Matt and spends most of his time jostling clumps of ice cream with oversized metal spoons and judging the customers’ disgusting topping combinations. Matt says Andrew's a "toppings purist." Andrew says "maybe so."

Matt’s not so bad. He leaves Andrew alone when Andrew’s clearly had enough of other humans. Like right now.

It’s Matt’s voice that alerts Andrew to the fact that something weird is happening.

“Renee! Allison!...person I don’t know! What are y’all doing here?”

Andrew stops practicing the new sport he’s just invented called “spin the spoon really fast” to check that he’s heard correctly. He has. Andrew’s best and only friend, Renee Walker, and Renee’s girlfriend (slash Andrew’s begrudgingly frequent companion because of said partnership), Allison Reynolds, have appeared in the lobby of Andrew’s place of work. Which is also their place of work. And they’re definitely not on the schedule today.

Cautiously walking behind them is someone Andrew has never seen before: a man with brown skin, auburn hair, and piercing blue eyes. It’s quite a combination. Even if Andrew didn’t have an eidetic memory, he wouldn’t forget that face. The man meets Andrew’s eyes for a second then follows Renee and Allison to the big booth in the back where they dump their backpacks.

The groups strolls up to the counter. Allison and Matt banter back and forth a bit. What-are-y’all-doing-here-this. We-have-a-group-project-for-Management-that. Andrew couldn’t care less. He’s got his eyes on the person behind Allison: the mysterious Blue Eyes. 

Allison retreats behind Blue Eyes to consult with her girlfriend, presumably about ice cream flavors. Which, Andrew thinks, is idiotic because _ they both work here. _

Blue Eyes faces the counter alone and steps bravely forward. Matt asks Blue Eyes what he can get for him. Andrew watches without shame, oversize ice cream spoons in hand.

“A scoop of orange sherbert.”

Andrew interrupts right before Matt can sure-anything-else? the man. 

“No.”

Matt glances at Andrew, genuinely baffled. “No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Just no.” Andrew stares at Matt with his stoniest, most implacable stare.

Matt sighs. “Fine. I’ll make it. Just let me ring him up first.”

Matt puts on his best customer service smile and swipes the card of a bewildered Blue Eyes who glances furtively between the Courte’s strange employees until his card is restored to him and he can scurry away to the booth.

“What the fuck, Andrew?”

Andrew ignores Matt’s question and attempts to hip check the towering man out from behind the register so Andrew can greet the rest of the party. He’s only partially successfully so he pushes Matt the rest of the way and claims the register for his own. Matt sighs again and starts collecting the orange sherbert.

Renee watches with mild amusement but doesn’t comment on the playground tactics. Bold for an interloper.

“Renee Walker,” Andrew says. “How interesting to see you here on this day, right now, when you’re not scheduled to work.”

Renee gives Andrew the same smile she gives everyone: pleasant, gentle, lips closed. Enough to solidify most people’s perception of her gentle nature. Andrew, of course, knows better.

“Hello, Andrew.”

Andrew waves grandly toward the three of them--Renee with her coy little smile waiting to be served, Allison somehow managing to type on her phone and mock Andrew at the same time, Blue Eyes relegated to cowering in the corner booth. “What in the fuck.”

“We’re working on a group project,” Renee shrugs. “Allison felt like ice cream.”

Reynolds puts her phone away and slides in beside Renee. “You got a problem with that, Minyard?” Allison's eyebrow lift is an impressive challenge, or it would be if Andrew wasn’t exposed to it on a regular basis.

“Far be it from me to tell you what to do with your day off. One question, though,” Andrew nods at the booth where Blue Eyes is already spreading out his notes, “what is _ that _?”

Allison drops the act and leans in. “That’s Neil. He’s in our marketing class. He’s weird, right? And gorgeous. And also a little mean.” She sounds impressed. “I’m taking him under my wing.”

“Does he know that?”

“Can it, Minyard. We used to have four people in our group. Guess what happened to the fourth person?” Allison doesn’t wait for an answer. “She asked Neil on a date and he turned her down flat--right in front of us.”

Renee groans in sympathy. “I don’t think he meant to come off so…” she searches for a word that's accurate but inoffensive, “brusque. It was rough.”

“It was _ amazing _,” Allison says. “She asked if he wanted to ‘hang out after this,’ and he was like ‘why?’ And she was like, ‘I just want to get to knowwww you.'” Allison bats her eyes and it’s appalling.

Andrew gives Renee his _ Really? This one? _look, a look he’s near perfected. She shrugs and smiles back. Renee is generally quite practical, but Allison is her weakness.

“And Neil was like,” Allison rearranges her face to match Neil’s blank confusion, “‘Uh, no thanks?’ and she left the class and never came back.”

Andrew snorts despite himself and rearranges his perception of Neil in light of these new facts. Renee gives Andrew a very specific look as they order. Andrew flips her off and tells her to sit down then yells at Matt to finish the rest of the orders. This unannounced visit is really throwing Andrew off his groove. He shakes a handful of Oreo dust into his palm and shovels it into his mouth. Marginally better.

#

They’re back next week. Andrew shoves Matt out of the way of the register and pushes the scoops into his chest.

“Uh, okay?” Matt says and takes the spoons.

Andrew stands behind the register, like someone who works the register often. With authority, but also like he couldn’t give a shit. Hopefully. 

Up first: Neil the blue-eyed sherbert-lover. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans so old they seem to have lost color completely. It’s a lucky thing Neil’s so striking or he might fade into the wallpaper. Fuck, Andrew did not just think of Neil as _ striking. _

“A scoop of orange sherbert, please,” Neil says. His expression is guarded.

Andrew pretends to think about it. “No.”

“I’m the customer. That’s what I want.”

“What you want is disgusting.”

Neil scoffs. “You’re not the one eating it.”

“And neither should you.”

A vein pops in Neil’s neck. Andrew can tell he’s getting to Neil, and it feels delicious.

“Why do you get to decide what _ I _eat?” Neil says.

“_ I _ have the buttons,” Andrew taunts and taps his finger on the iPad screen where they put in the orders, “ _ and _the scoops.” He leans over to Matt and snatches the spoons from Matt’s unprepared grip. Matt mutters about crazed blonde assholes. It’s even easier than usual to ignore him.

Neil’s incredulous expression says he agrees with Matt. Andrew plays back the last 10 seconds and winces at himself cheerfully calling an iPad screen “the buttons.”

“Oh my god, fine. Just—choose something, then.” Neil folds his arms.

Andrew tilts his head does his best impression of his therapist. “Any allergies?”

“N—”

“Just kidding, don’t care,” Andrew says.

Allison’s groan is nearly a scream, and Andrew is suddenly aware of the presence of the women behind Neil. Renee's look is back. It's knowing. Andrew doesn't like it one bit.

“C’mon Renee, let’s go sit down while they...” Allison waves a manicured hand in Andrew and Neil’s direction, “do whatever this is.”

Neil doesn't appear to hear Allison. He's raising his voice to a self-righteous volume. “What if I’m allergic to nuts? You’re just going to poison me with pistachio ice cream?”

Andrew secretly hopes Neil isn’t allergic to nuts. He clutches at imaginary pearls. “I would never serve you pistachio ice cream. Nuts are for healthy shit, not dessert. Obviously.”

“This is actually insane. How do you even work here?” Neil throws his hands up. “Your attitude is shit and you are actively refusing to sell the product.”

“Wow, you must be crushing it in your business classes. Would you believe me if I told you it’s because I have a beautiful smile?” Andrew bares his teeth.

“I don’t believe anything you say,” Neil says with more than a little scorn.

“Great,” Andrew says and widens his smile to the look that usually has people taking several steps back, “for that you’re getting the Chocolate Monstrosity. Matt! One Chocolate Monstrosity for my friend Neil here, if you would.”

Andrew turns to see Matt staring at them with his arms hanging by his sides, his expression a visceral what-the-fuck.

“But I don’t want—” Neil starts again.

“Don’t care.” Andrew presses a button on the iPad at random. He doesn’t usually work the register. “That will be $13.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hand it over. Loiterers will be removed from the premises.”

“But my study group...Allison is the only reason I’m going to pass this class,” Neil says.

“That’s capitalism, baby. Pay up.” Andrew extends his hand to a befuddled and angry Neil. He swipes the card. “It’s been a pleasure serving you.”

When the study group finally leaves, Allison and Renee wave a cheery goodbye to their coworkers behind the counter. Andrew ignores them in favor of staring at Neil who glares back sullenly. He's the last one out the door, and Andrew gives him a quick two-finger salute before he goes.

“So. Andrew.”

“What?” Andrew turns to Matt and pretends not to notice the smug expression on his face.

“When did you invent our new menu item? The illustrious Chocolate Monstrosity?” Matt makes air quotes and Andrew can’t resist.

“That’s not how you use ‘illustrious,’ meathead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Matt says and begins what he probably believes in an extremely amusing exercise in sarcasm. Andrew is already thinking about his next encounter with Neil. Then again, maybe Andrew’ll get lucky and Neil will refuse to ever come back.

#

They come back. Well, Andrew’s never been the lucky type. Allison and Renee don’t even bother walking up to the counter. They just wave at Matt and move directly to lounge in the corner booth.

Neil’s outfit has barely changed. This is a different pair of jeans, but it’s hard for Andrew to differentiate between faded grey t-shirts. Neil’s expression says he’s prepared to fight it out.

He walks up to the counter and doesn’t give Andrew time to speak. “Allison wants a strawberry milkshake, Renee wants a cone with one scoop of chocolate cookie dough and one scoop of brownie fudge, and I want a—” The increasing pace of his little speech tells Andrew that Neil knows what’s coming.

Andrew interrupts him. “Don’t care.”

“So they can get what they want?” Neil slaps a palm on the counter.

Andrew shrugs.

“But I can’t?”

“They have taste. You don’t.”

Neil’s face scrunches. God, he’s easy to wind up. “You don’t even know what I was going to order.”

“Don’t need to. I already know that what I pick will be better.”

“I hated what you gave me last time.”

Andrew smirks. “Exactly. You have bad taste. I’m expanding your horizons. You're welcome.”

“Oh my god, whatever.” Neil thrusts a card with “Allison Reynolds” printed on it at Andrew. “Just give me something that doesn’t look like it wants to take ten years off my life expectancy.”

“Don’t be so afraid to die,” Andrew says.

“This is an ice cream shop. You do realize that, right?”

Andrew pauses, card in air, and stares back.

“You know what? Nevermind.”

Andrew pokes a few buttons at random. “Great. Here you go. Matt! The girls want the usual and Neil wants the Dumbass Delight.”

Matt walks over from where he’s been socializing with the girls. Allison yells at Andrew from where she’s draped across Renee.

“Minyard, if you charge me anything over $30, I swear to god I’ll tell Neil exactly what’s really going on.”

“Going on?” Neil asks as Matt slips behind the counter, looking at both of them. “What does she mean?”

“Sorry, that’s on a need-to-know basis.” Andrew stabs a finger at Neil. “And you. Don’t need. To know.”

Neil reclaims the card in a huff and disappears.

This time Andrew chips in and helps Matt create the Dumbass Delight. It is truly a delightful creation with no fewer than 10 toppings, including gummy worms, hot tamales, and--everyone’s favorite--circus peanuts.

The study group is already bowing their heads to their work when Andrew watches Matt ferry their creation and Renee and Allison’s orders to the booth. Allison and Renee admire the Delight’s structural integrity. Neil pointedly ignores its presence, a real feat, in favor of furiously writing. 

Andrew’s gloating is interrupted when Allison makes an unexpected appearance at the counter during the mid-shift money count.

Allison leans against the counter, her long blonde coils draped elegantly over a shoulder. She pauses surveying her matte black nails long enough to scoff at the neat rows of gummy worms Andrew has laid out on the counter for consumption, one for every minute left of his shift. 

Andrew shoves a worm in his mouth and doesn’t chew before he says, “Reynolds, what a surprise. How can I help you?”

Allison’s expression shifts from disgust back to self-satisfaction. “Oh, you already are. I'm making absolute bank right now.”

“You’re betting on this?” Andrew stops. “I want in.”

Allison tuts him. “Can’t bet on yourself, babe. You know that.”

“Let me guess: Renee is betting for me, you against.”

“You know I can’t say, Minyard.”

Matt appears from the back, his apron sporting a waist-high wet spot that says he’s been washing dishes. Another reason Andrew prefers to count the drawer. 

Matt makes to say something, but Allison points a finger at him. “Mouth closed, Matt.”

“Et tu, Boyd?” Andrew says. 

Matt shrugs in apology but his grin isn’t sorry. “Gotta make money off my dairy creations somehow.

“It’s called a job,” Andrew says under his breath.

Allison snaps her fingers in front of Andrew until she has his attention. You can take the girl out of the snobbery…

“Anyway,” she continues, “Neil has no idea what’s going on. He does think you’re a stone-cold weirdo. You better ask him out quick, though.”

“Why would I do anything you suggest?”

“Because Neil is disgusting. He doesn’t have any hobbies and goes for like, three-hour-long runs every day. You might,” she winces and her voice goes all scrape-y, “be a good influence on him.”

Andrew is already lost. Neil in running shorts, sweat threading his neck, beading on the dip in his collarbones, the knots of his spine…

“Oh, and our marketing project ends next week,” Allison says with a feral smile, teeth perfectly white against bright red lipstick and deep brown skin. “Better get your ass in gear, loverboy.”

#

Andrew isn’t afraid of anything. He’s been through hell and back. He can proposition an attractive man without batting an eye. And he has, multiple times. Except Andrew’s not propositioning Neil, is he? He’s going to ask Neil on a proper date because apparently some people don’t pick up on obvious and sustained flirting.

Andrew’s least favorite gaggle of scholars returns to the Foxhole Courte at the same time the following week. Allison and Renee squeeze through the door with a laugh, arms linked around each other’s waists. Neil watches the four-legged Allison-and-Renee monster lurch to the booth with a fond smile. It’s the first smile Andrew’s seen from Neil and goddamnit if it doesn’t make this whole thing that much more real.

Andrew reminds himself that this "whole thing" with Neil is nothing, but then again he does want Allison to lose the bet--badly.

Neil approaches the counter, expression calm, and waits.

Andrew almost breaks into a hi-what-can-I-get-you out of sheer nerves. But this is Neil, and, for some reason, Andrew needs to remind Neil that Andrew is no mere ice cream slinger. 

Andrew keeps his face carefully blank and gives his eyebrows a slight lift in greeting. Nice.

Neil sighs minutely. “Allison and Renee want the same thing as last time, and I want anything that isn’t $13.”

Andrew weighs his options and replies without missing a beat. “I’ll give you the orange sherbert.” Neil’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “For free.”

Neil narrows his eyes. “And the catch?”

“You go out with me.”

“Oh,” Neil says. His expression is pure shock, his jaw hanging a little open. Andrew can’t help but notice how kissable his lips look like that, slightly open. He imagines what Neil’s skin would feel like, the curve of that pretty cheekbone, the awkward juts of his scarred wrists. 

Ugh, Andrew hates Neil so much.

“Okay,” Neil says.

Wait, what? He said okay. Okay, meaning yes.

“Okay,” Andrew repeats idiotically, and Neil rewards him with a shy half-smile.

Andrew quickly turns away and it’s all he can do to keep his hands from shaking while he scoops out Neil’s disgusting neon orange sherbert and his heart pounds stupidly in his chest.

#

Neil Josten walks into the Foxhole Courte wearing a shirt that is definitively cerulean and probably less than three years old. He looks good, even better when he smiles at Andrew, loose and easy.

Andrew’s dumb fucking heart is pounding again and he has to concentrate on listening to Matt repeat an order back to him. 

When Andrew’s shift ends, he hangs up the garishly bright orange apron in the back and takes his tips. Which are none. Because he’s an asshole. Matt flashes Andrew a smile as he slides around the counter to see his...Neil. 

“I see you decided on wearing a color visible to the human eye today,” Andrew says as he takes Neil in.

Neil looks pleased with himself and Andrew wants to wipe the look off his face, preferably with his mouth. 

“Allison said you’d like it.”

“You went shopping with Reynolds?”

“She said she owed since you funded her manicure and Renee’s little charity donation last month.”

Andrew grunts. “She could have just covered my shift, then.”

Neil rolls his eyes and leans into Andrew. “So, how many M&Ms did you eat this shift?” Andrew can’t admit how much he likes this: Neil leaning on him, a beautiful face turned in his direction, this steady attention. 

“About three and a half cups. Maybe four.”

Neil laughs and links his pinky with Andrew’s. “So I guess we’re not going to eat then.”

“It’s a surprise,” Andrew says.

They leave the shop without a backward glance—well, Andrew does. Neil definitely waves and calls "goodbye" to Matt. But Andrew couldn't care less about anyone else now that Neil’s here.

“Never thought I’d learn to love your surprises,” Neil says with a wry grin.

“Just expanding your horizons," Andrew says, though he knows what Wymack would call giving someone you regularly make out with a key to your very expensive Maserati: a grand gesture. He also knows what Reynolds would call it because she already has ("a fucking sap, Minyard"). Renee didn't call it anything but she looked proud and only a smidge knowing and gave him an extra tight hug. Matt just complained that Andrew never let _ him _ drive the Maserati. ("Maybe if you were prettier, Boyd.")

"Please, it's way beyond ice cream now," Neil says, trying to sound put upon, but his smile is big and full of something too intense for Andrew to contemplate directly right now.

Andrew looks away and pretends not to hear Neil but tightens his grip on Neil's hand. Neil knows that Andrew knows that Neil knows. Or something. 

Neil squeezes back, and for a moment Andrew is almost grateful for his stupid ice cream-slinging job at the even more stupidly-named Foxhole Courte...almost.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated. :)


End file.
